Caloosa! Just add water...

Well, I got one thing right.  The squirrels could have heard us coming! 

Took one more quick ride at the park on Friday morning, this time to test the "big bike tires". 

Snakes fled.  Gopher tortoises ducked, hissing, into their shells.

Wow, the new knobbies were not the traction tigers I expected, maybe only 10% better.  Along with a huge amount of energy loss, pushing all that rubber through the sand and mud, there was so much vibration, even off road, that my wrist went numb somewhere around mile 3. 

Test results: 
Very little gain in traction. 
Huge energy suckage.
Unnnncccomforrrtaa-uh-uh-able.

Uh oh.  Mud or no mud, the big knobs were just too much tire for me.  I don't have the strength.  The low profile "baby shoes" were better after all.    

Popeye, ever the hero, volunteered to change them back for me that night. 

The lightweight tires held the Stan's first try.  Whew.  Plus, we got a free lesson in hydraulic brake adjustment!  So much so, that the initial ten minute job of changing tires ran too late to even think about packing for Saturday's departure.  

But all went fine in the morning after a sleep unmarred by alarm clocks.  The Honda Elephant was packed and ready for departure by ten for the four hour trek to Alva.  Plenty of daylight at the other end for packet pick up and a pre-ride of the race course. 

Sailor and Cap'n Bligh were already on trail when we arrived.

My life is full of superheroes.  

The trail at Caloosa is one of the best groomed trails I have ever ridden anywhere, in this state, or any other.  The Mudcutters bike club relentlessly maintains and improves the trail to a degree to be envied by even the most glamorous locations. 

There is never a time when we ride at Alva that there hasn't been some change: added trail, beefed up low spots, reinforced turns and edges.  This year the trail featured all of that, plus a surprise ending - the heightening of the 2 camel humped "thrill hills" at the west end.  A big wowee-zowie for the roller coaster crowd. 

I knew from years past that the humps were big fun, and easy, as long as you put in Effort. 

Just GO. 

Go with a LOT of momentum. 

Killer made the crest all right, but unable to make the little right hook necessary to stay on trail, I shot off down the back side into the weeds and was in no way able to get enough momentum for the hump #2. 

Darn.  

I know I did this last year.  Go again. 

Darn. 

Was it the big wheels?  

Only after Sailor and Cap'n Bligh told us (over another fantastic dinner - with another of Sailor's recipes I will have to beg for a later post) that the humps had been heightened, did they scare me.  Before knowing that, I was fine, weeds and all!  

Only then did I begin to worry. 

The camel backs were far too steep to get the bike over on foot, unless someone dropped a rope over the side. 

If I went around them during the race, I'd have to disqualify myself.  

Oh well, nothing to do but cross that hump when you get to it, I guess.

So, did I think to take pictures of this best groomed trail anywhere ever?  No.  Or of the crazy humps popping up from a pancake flat field ala the original Camelback in Arizona?  Nope.  Or the whoopty doo's of the Far East?  Uh-uh.

Sorry.  Just plain forgot.  Way too busy having fun.

I will have to write to Sailor and the Cap'n.  Maybe they or some of the other Mudcutters can send me a photo.  It's too cool a sight not to share!  These folks can dream up some amazing sh--, uh, stuff.

So, the pre-ride went great.  The overcast sky kept it's cool.  The rain was barely a mist, and the hard pack stayed dry.

Hardly ever having to put a foot down, and riding two loops of the short but technical Far East to my one, Popeye came swooping by me on an uphill. 

We agreed the trail was perfect.  Ever the prophet, he added, "But if it rains tomorrow, this place will be a skating rink." 

And was it ever!

It's Monday morning.  I am home, with the third load of laundry going, trying to decide what the highlights were.  Honest to god, too many to count. 

This was, by far, the most fun of any race ever.  (Um, do I say that about every off road tri with a car named after it?)  The course in Richmond has long been my favorite, and you've heard me rave about Oleta.  The twists and turns at JAX are a blast, but Caloosahatchee this year outdid them all!

All it took was the addition of one simple ingredient to make it ever so memorable. 

So, be careful what you wish for with big new tires on a Thursday.  By Sunday, on your slicks, you may get it. 

Mud.  And plenty of it.
  
to be continued